The Fall
by emotional-static
Summary: Discontinued.


THE FALL 

I was cleaning, of all fucking things to do. Absentmindedly scrubbing at the kitchen counter for the fifth time that day. Back and forth, up and down. My husband is dying, and all I can do is clean. 

'Well at least it'll be spotless for the funeral,' I thought to myself bitterly, and then froze. My eyes started watering. How could I be so selfish, thinking about myself and something that I dreaded the most, when he must be feeling ten times worse than I did. He was feeling real pain, and I was feeling my heart breaking. I threw my dishtowel in the sink angrily and ran my hands over the surface of the counter.

The doctors told me six months yesterday. Six months doesn't cut if for me. He looks healthy, on the outside. Not too skinny, still doing the things he loved to do, and still taking his pills. Then _why_? I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and started the coffeemaker. Roger would be up soon, and probably Mark as well. The glint of the sun caught my ring as I reached up to grab the coffee from the cabinet, and I paused. _Everything reminded me of him_. Everything would always remind me of him.

There was nothing else to do but sit and wait for the coffee to finish, so I flicked through the morning papers. Frustrated, I tossed them aside and pulled my dark brown hair into a messy twist at the top of my head. I took two, no three mugs out of the cabinet. Then I put one back, because I didn't know what time Mark was getting up and with my luck the coffee would just sit on the damn counter all morning. I took the pot off and poured it into the mugs, whacking the last one clumsily with my hand and spilling it all over the place and onto myself.

"FUCK!" I shouted, trying to clean and run my hand under water at the same time. 

"Golf claps," Roger joked, shuffling into the kitchen. His bleach blonde hair was a spiky mess, but he was still adorable all the same. He took one look at me and started laughing.

"God I'm a mess. Stop laughing, it really hurt!" I said, laughing back, even though it was a really hard thing to do.

"Good, then this means I can have your coffee then," he said.

"You're so mean."

"How about if we tried this again? Good morning," he smiled, leaning over to kiss me, then wrapping his arms around my waist. "Ew, you smell," he joked. I rolled my eyes and ducked out from under his arms and walked into the bedroom, stripping off my coffee stained shirt. I dug through the clean laundry and pulled on a black tank top and whipped back around, slamming right into him. I swatted him away and attempted to walk past him until he tackled me back onto the bed, pinning me underneath him.

"Sorry for saying you smell, because—you—really—don't," he said in between kissing my neck.

"You're charming, did anyone ever tell you that?"

"You're gorgeous, did anyone ever tell _you _that?" he mocked back.

"Get a room," Mark groaned, walking by.

"You're just jealous because you want to join in and we won't let you!" Roger teased, this time kissing my stomach.

"Uh, right," Mark said, walking away.

"Aww, I think you hurt his feelings," I giggled. Roger shrugged and continued kissing me, kisses that sent shivers up and down my spine. 

"It was supposed to be funny."

"It was funny—Roger stop it!" I gasped as he tickled me. 

"Why should I, Mrs. Davis?" he teased, making a dive for my feet.

"NO STOP!" I laughed. He did, but only temporarily. I pinched his ribs and tried to slide out from under him, but he just pinned me down harder.

"Roger I gotta go!" I laughed.

"Go where?"

"I GOTTA PEE!" I yelled in his ear, hoping that he would get off me. It worked long enough for me to slide off to make a dash to the bathroom. He ran after me and blocked the bathroom with his body, and I jokingly glared at him.

"Move."

"Use your manners," he said fatherly.

"Move, dammit," I laughed. I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. "What kind of husband refuses to let his wife pee in peace?"

"I love you, Angela," he said, wrapping his arms around me again. He buried his face in my hair before letting me go.

"I love you too," I smiled. "Now lemme go or no sex!" I said, wagging a finger at him.

"Okay, okay. But I still get your coffee."

If you would have seen us eight years ago, you would have never thought that two completely different people could have ever gotten along, let alone ended up married. 

Loving him was what kept me alive.

Now it was killing me.

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[A/N: Yes, no? Leave me a review! More coming soon. I named this "The Fall" for two reasons : one, it was when Roger and Angela first met, the fall of 1997. Second, the fall symbolizes everything that happened in their past to bring them together, and everything that separates them in the end. Mari 33]


End file.
